


Reflections of a Shadow

by E Alexis Vigil (RocketBabydoll)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Dunno what to tag for Archive Warnings bc I dunno what the dice have in store yet, F/F, Homebrew Content, Original Universe, Potential polycule? We'll find out together, Trans Character, fifth edition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocketBabydoll/pseuds/E%20Alexis%20Vigil
Summary: Dr Vexine Chambers is a shadow elf novelist who was dumped in the Prime Material Plane by the Raven Queen twenty-five years ago. Since then, she's been quietly making a living as a performer at the Vagabond's Familiar, a tavern in southern Evarron. She has never left her little corner of this world and that's the way she likes it. When a tall, dark, and handsome woman named Elisabeta blows into town looking for a translator on her epic quest, however, Vex feels compelled to help her out. On the way, they meet a pair of goblins named Tyti and Siri and get wrapped up in an adventure that none of them had quite bargained for.Glossary for canonical terms listed at the beginning of each chapter, comments always greatly appreciated.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Managing Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vex leaves home, with a push from an old friend... and an old lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carifas - midweek in the Saviiran calendar (Nasillos, Ratos, Danillas, Finas, Carifas, Siatas, Orveos, Titos, Silas, Bajamates)  
> Semilla - The second month in the Saviiran calendar (Primavera, Semilla, Forstsel, Pier Delun, Zenith, Aurum, A'chian, An'darnain, Sistsel, Argent, Nadir, Amethyst); roughly equivalent to April  
> Zenith - The fifth month in the Saviiran calendar; roughly equivalent to July  
> Regal Era - The Saviiran era following the Strife Era marked by the widespread rule of regents across the continent.  
> Reisenlofte - The holy day of the god Orveon and traditionally the last day of the season that sailors spend on land.  
> Común - A trade creole that was once a human language, but is now sort of eight or more languages in a trench coat. Also known as Saviiran Common. Spoken in this chapter by Vex Chambers and Samson Aughrim.  
> Estlander - The language of Evarron, and a daughter language of Human. Samson Aughrim can speak it.  
> Sothlander - The language of the Umana Coast, also rarely called Modern Human. This is the language that Elisabeta Reinanoches speaks that Vex cannot understand.  
> Hymnal - A common liturgical language. Most people only speak it for purposes of worship, but here Elisabeta Reinanoches and Vex Chambers are able to use it to communicate.  
> Shadar - The language of the Shadowfell, and a daughter language of Sylvan. It is Vex Chambers's native tongue.  
> Sent - Evarronian copper coin. Ten of them are worth a mince.  
> Mince - Evarronian silver coin. The standard currency.  
> Brink - Evarronian electrum coin. Worth five mince.  
> Leannan - Galbaronian goddess of unconventional beauty, art, sensuality, and vampires. Not typically worshipped in Saviir.  
> Phyne - Celestial goddess of purity, family, and childbirth. Considered one of the "Cornerstone Deities of Civilization" in Celestialism.

I think our story starts on a Carifas. I’ve never been good with dates. Not like you’d know the difference either way. We’ll call it a Carifas. It was the tenth of Semilla, and it was a Carifas. Who cares? Here - more pertinently, it was a fine spring morning in the 1410th year of the Regal Era, and I was giving morning head to an absolutely gorgeous orc. Her name was Haelge. I think it’s a great idea to start here. I’m a big proponent of managing expectations. This is what this whole damn thing is gonna be like. We’ve got almost certainly misremembered dates. We’ve got stream of consciousness. We’ve got sexy orc women and sloppy blowjobs and me! My name is Doctor Vexine Magdalene Chambers and I’m not from around here. Not from Soravale, not from Evarron, and not even from the Material Plane!

I’m from a place called Ravencrest in the Shadowfell. It’s something of a commuter town, being as it is situated between Evernight and Addermouth. I went to school in Evernight and collected degrees. Probably for way, way too long to be remotely healthy. When I was around a hundred years old, the Raven Queen dropped me in Evarron with my violin, my music, and my manuscripts. I don’t know why, but it’s far, far beyond my place to question the will of the Divine. So I spend my days writing books in a language that the locals don’t even read, my evenings playing music at the Vagabond’s Familiar for tips, and my nights going to bed with any woman who will take me. Not a terrible life for a novelist, all things considered.

This particular woman - my strong, sweet Haelge - had been kind enough to take me on several occasions, but it wasn’t to last. She was simply spending her year’s wages in Soravale, and come Reisenlofte, she’d be back in Kvash with her crewmates, ready to return to every sailor’s true love. Tasting the salt of the sea crash like a wave onto my tongue, I kissed her goodbye, gathered my clothes, and shuffled back to the Familiar. Looking back on it, that’s exactly what I did. I had my little flings to keep things exciting, then shuffled back to the familiar. Back through the streets of Soravale that had become my home for the past two and a half decades, back to writing and singing and fucking and writing and singing and fucking, all so very familiar. I told myself that I was happy, but happy people don’t go on adventures.

That is, except for Liz. That bright beacon of sunlight, that perfect, perfect, perfect heart. A knight in shining armor if ever one lived. Walking back home, I had no idea that four hours of sleep and half a dead night at the inn was all the time I had left before she swept in and changed everything in the whole world.

Dead in a Soravale tavern is different than dead in a metropolitan city. It’s not a handful of patrons coming and going. Before Liz came in, it was just Old Aughie and I. He was practicing blowing smoke rings from his corncob pipe and I was fucking around on my hurdy gurdy, growing more manic by the minute. I was in the middle of improvising a particularly incomprehensible verse when the door swung open and she came in. She was tall and beautiful, her fiery hair and Umana Coast tan looked so unusual in the Easterlands, and her glow… her glow! Despite the worn and tattered travelling cloak, the humble swishing chain mail, and her apparent exhaustion, her halo was unmistakable. I hadn’t even realized I had stopped playing and was gawking until Old Aughie cleared his throat and loudly began pouring a drink for this weary traveller.

“Well, Miss,” I called out cheerfully in what was my best Común at the time, “you’re the only one here, is there any… any… ehm. Any type of song you’d like to… hear?”

Her head cocked, seeming to try and figure out what I was saying. I repeated myself, pantomiming through the words. It seemed like she didn’t speak Común very well, but she got the gist of what I was saying, and shyly muttered something in a language I’d never heard before. It sounded a little like Estlander, the language of Evarron, but Old Aughie was furrowing his brow trying to follow it as well. She adopted my strategy, pointing at me and tapping her lips. The incorrigible little harlot in me really wanted her to be asking for a kiss, but tragically I understood.

“ _ Taler du Kvache _ ?” I asked, in case she spoke Kvashi, which I was at least able to carry out spotty conversations in. Unsurprisingly, she did not. Surprisingly, she tried a language I was much more familiar with.

“ _ Qal ant Himinat _ ?” she asked, which was close enough to asking if I spoke Hymnal.

I eagerly replied that I did and we were able to carry on a short and simple conversation. She seemed more at ease, then, and let her hood down, her beautiful curls spilling out. I conveyed her desire for food and a room to Old Aughie, then played her some springy improvised tune. It’s a little embarrassing to note that I was paying such close attention to her, but I noticed her trying to feel the beat in a rhythm most uncommon in Evarron and subtly switched into a time that she might be more familiar with. After the song and a glass of wine, she called out to me again in Hymnal.

“Excuse me, did you… learn song in Santiaga?” she asked.

“I’ve never heard of Santiaga,” I admitted in our shared language, “is there a school of music there?”

“City in Valicia,” she explained, “is there a school of music. Very… very…  _ muy famosa _ .”

“ _ Fomosa _ !” Old Aughie caught a cognate of Estlander that he recognized.

“Famous! _ Ainmeil _ … ” I repeated in Común, then corrected into Shadar, and then finally into Hymnal, “ehm,  _ mashhur _ !”

“Famous!” she laughed, returning to Hymnal, “yes. Very famous. Good… song people learn in Santiaga.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m good at it,” I blushed a dark grey and tucked a strand of silver hair behind my pointed and heavily pierced ears.

“You fit in in Valicia,” she said kindly, a blush of her own spreading over her cheeks.

Something about that sentence and the way she said it pressed down hard on a very old bruise. That was charitable of her to say, as someone who didn’t know me. I hadn’t even fit in in the Shadowfell, my home. I didn’t fit in in Evarron, and it’s easy to say I’d fit in somewhere I’d never even heard of if you had no idea of who I was. This moment of indignance quickly faded and I felt guilty for my uncharitable thoughts. She was being kind, maybe flirty even if I was lucky. I opened my mouth to reply when a party of carousing youths stumbled through the doors. Reluctantly, I turned to the harpsichord and began playing for them. Well, more for her, but it was the presence of more customers that spurred me back to the work I was hired to do.

I was distracted that night. She stayed the whole time, right until she couldn’t keep her eyes open and had to go upstairs for the night, but the crowd picked up somewhat. Normally that would be alright - more customers meant more tips, and by the end of the night, my purse was heavy with copper sents and even a few silver mince from more generous patrons, but I was agitated. I just wanted a few more minutes alone with her, if only to introduce myself. As it was, I spent the night with a mara’nil named Marian. She was, as many “high” elves are, a spellcaster, and our sex was made all the more playful through our use of magic throughout it. When I got back, Old Aughie told me that our mysterious guest wanted to talk to me, and she waved me down from her booth in the far corner of the room.

“Good morning,” I said sheepishly in Hymnal; I was disheveled and sleepy and despite being unable to smell, I’m sure I reeked of sex.

“Good morning. I bought food,” she said, almost sheepishly, gesturing to the plate of fried chicken eggs and cheese on toasted bread, “Mr. Aughrim said you liked this.”

“Good old Aughie,” I smiled. He knew me very well, though I hoped he gave this poor woman a discount, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “besides, it’s not all kindness. I have something to ask.”

I blinked, my mind racing like a warbird. I must have worn my shock on my sleeve, because she continued quickly.

“It’s only… Mr. Aughrim said you know Común. Know enough to… to say things… ah,” she blushed and seemed almost to glow, giggling nervously, “I barely speak Hymnal. I have many troubles on my trip.”

“You need a… ehm,” I blanked on the word in all four languages that I knew, “Speaker of Común. I understand. Where are you going?”

“I go to Nivale to seek… seek… to speak with Titania,” she said boldly.

“Like the… the… ach!” I’d forgotten the word for Archfey in Hymnal, if there even is such a word, “the Great Elf-Before-Elves?”

She cocked her head, not understanding.

“Aughie, how do you say Archfey in Estlander?” I shouted in Común.

“ _ Senhofadad. _ Is the girl from Nivale?” he asked.

“ _ ¡Señohadas, si! _ ” the woman interjected.

“She said she’s going to Nivale,” I corrected.

Old Aughie laughed, “I doubt that very much. Ask her where she’s from.”

“Where are you from?” I relayed the question in Hymnal, then added, “My name is Vex Chambers, by the way.”

“My name is Elisabeta Reinanoches Almez. I’m from Errathan,” she replied. Old Aughie laughed so hard he slapped the counter. We watched him and waited for him to calm down.

“Errathan! Ask her which way she’s been travelling,” he choked out between chortles.

“Which way have you been going?” I asked, starting to understand why I’d never heard of these places.

“I travel north,” she said cluelessly.

I didn’t even have to translate, “Miss Almez, I’m very sorry.”

“Oh, Miss Reinanoches, please,” she corrected, then grew worried, “sorry about what?”

“The region you’re in is called the Easterlands, Miss Reinanoches,” I couldn’t bear to meet her eyes. She looked shocked and exhausted, “I… I’ve never travelled a lot. I don’t really know how to take a trip or anything. When I was in the Shadowfell, I pretty much only travelled to the city to study, which was only a day’s journey by… by… not a cart, but the thing horses pull that isn’t a cart. Anyways, by vehicle. I could translate from Común - translator!! Translator! I could be your translator from Común into Hymnal.”

“Never travelled? You did not come from Shadowfell through Addermouth?” she questioned.

“Addermouth is in the Shadowfell. I lived near there,” I nodded, not understanding. Neither did she, because she simply pressed on.

“I don’t have much but I can pay for you if you help me get to Nivale,” she offered.

The sudden panic of leaving everything - my little room, my routine, my job - set in and without thinking, I shook my head, “I’m really sorry. I can… I can try to help you charter a ship and get a compass, but I… I just don’t travel. My whole life is here.”

She seemed dejected, but she thanked me and asked if I would mind helping her that day. Even then, I felt anxious that it would impede my writing, but I agreed, only asking if I could take a bath and change clothes first. I went upstairs and quickly used magic to clean my clothes. I know it sounds a bit gross, but the fuller’s that uses lye soap instead of piss charges a fucking electrum brink, and as ridiculous as it sounds, we didn’t clean our clothes in piss in the Shadowfell. So presto! One magically laundered dress, then into my big, shapeless dress of black wool and linen smock that I wore to the bathhouse. I put my hair up in a messy bun and didn’t bother with stockings, boots, or makeup, keeping them in my pack to put on after I was squeaky-clean. On the way down I waved goodbye to Old Aughie, who was getting ready for the lunch crowd.

“Just a moment, Chambers,” he stopped me, “why didn’t you go with that nice girl?”

“She’s going to fucking Nivale, Aughie, not just to her bed,” I rolled my eyes, being a bit harsh with myself. Maybe I was a bit upset for not going after all, but the thought of leaving still filled me with dread.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misheard you bitching for the past twenty years about how you just wished you could find the right girl and you’d follow her to the ends of the earth, and misread all your books where the princess trapped in her ivory tower is rescued by the dashing dame,” he sassed me.

“You can read Shadar?” I asked.

“I can read all writing. It’s a long story,” Old Aughie waved his little gnarled hand dismissively, “the point is, you have a chance to live all of that out! Vex, you’re one of the smartest people I know, but sometimes you’re a little lacking in common sense. These kinds of opportunities don’t just happen every day.”

I struggled with that statement. It made sense, and it was said encouragingly, but it reminded me of the scoldings I’d get from my mother. “These kinds of opportunities don’t just happen every day.” Ironically, I recall hearing that almost daily. Anything from a marriage proposal from a strange older man to a job opening for a seamstress (I’ve never been able to sew) was a squandered opportunity. Looking back, it wasn’t Old Aughie’s fault that he worded it the way he did, but nevertheless it pressed on a bruise.

“Okay, so let’s say I do go with her,” I ramped up, “I follow her all the way to Nivale acting as her translator and fall in love with her and leave everything here behind… what’s to say she’s going to fall in love with me?”

“Vex, who wouldn’t fall in love with you?” Old Aughie asked pityingly.

“Everyone!” I declared, “I’m easy to lust after, Samson, but much harder to love. It was a monumental enough task for my family, after all.”

He went quiet after that, sighing and rubbing his bald head, muttering something in Estlander that I didn’t catch at all. Asking me to think about it, he went back to his work. I kicked a rock all the way to the bathhouse and tried to relax as I paid the full mince for the scented water. Though it would provide no benefit to my own nose, the luxury of it relaxed me and made me more confident that I smelled better to my potential paramours. For some reason, a certain brown-eyed ginger in grimy chain mail kept coming to mind. I scrubbed myself lazily and luxuriated in the warm water. I was joined by a human woman in the summer of her life, her gently wrinkled face betraying decades of mirth and the comfortable way she carried herself immediately catching my attention. There was something in her smile that evoked a warm Zenith night over twenty years in the past.

“Well, if it isn’t Vex Chambers,” she chuckled.

I blushed a deep grey, sinking lower in the water as memories and emotions came rushing back.

“Andrie Symonsen,” I burbled, “time seems to have smiled on you.”

“Hah! You charmer, you,” she laughed, “you haven’t aged a day. Meanwhile, I hadn’t even lost the baby weight from my first before I had my second, so that’s my excuse for all of this.”

“No, Andrie, you wear it so very well, and you still haven’t lost that beautiful smile of yours,” I insisted, my heart fluttering a bit, “so, two children. I suppose that means someone in this little town is very, very lucky.”

“No, I’m the lucky one. I managed to find the one man in Soravale who isn’t a complete pig,” she laughed, “though you are kind to flatter an old woman like me.”

“You forget that I have almost a century on you,” I roll my eyes.

“And yet, you remind me of my daughter’s friends. Which is a strange thing to say to my first love,” she lathered up her brush very casually for such a massive admission.

“You… you loved me?”

“Well, I was but one and twenty, so perhaps more of an infatuation, but I certainly thought I did.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to say to that. It seemed too on-the-nose for my thoughts, and I stole a quick questioning glance at the ceiling, a silent acknowledgement of Leannan’s possible guiding hand towards this encounter. In that, I found my answer.

“Well, things would certainly have been different if I’d realized you felt that way, wouldn’t they have?” I giggled playfully.

“Phyne give me strength, you really are still attracted to me,” she breathed incredulously.

“Aye, Andrie, I wasn’t joking - your husband is a very lucky man.”

“Vex…” she played with her hair, and I could see her mind racing, that same furrowed brow that twenty years prior had played a prelude to taking me to bed. My boiling blood leached the calcified villainy from my marrow and for one dark moment I considered what I could whisper in her ear to once more feel her body against my own. I closed my eyes as a ward against temptation and opened my soul to Leannan’s grace for the strength to speak.

“He is. I’d hate to rob him of his fortune and your children of their mother,” I said nervously.

“Wow, you really haven’t changed one bit,” Andrie laughed, “you can still read people like a book. I admit, I was thinking about us in the past, but fortunately I have a bit more self-control. You are sweet, though.”

I blushed a dark grey and nodded.

“You haven’t settled down, then?” she continued with a wry smile.

“As you well know, getting me to realize that someone cares long enough to get me to settle down is a task on its own,” I shrugged, adding a halfhearted, “apparently.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone with the patience for that. Perhaps a nice young girl much like I was once,” she teased.

“Ah, well, I might hit the road soon, so perhaps a change will do me some good,” I said, surprising myself.

“That sounds very romantic,” she smiled, “I hope you don’t forget me out there, as selfish as that sounds.”

“I could never,” I promised.

We continued to make small talk while we bathed, and when we said our farewells, I headed back to meet Miss Reinanoches at the Familiar. The certainty with which I’d told Andrie that I was leaving disturbed me. Perhaps Samson Aughrim had put his old whammy on me, because Leannan help me, I was considering up and leaving. I arrived back and Miss Reinanoches was there in a somewhat low-cut tunic and leggings, her curls framing her angelic visage. I felt myself greying just seeing her out of her armor.

“Well… I thank you for helping me,” she smiled.

“It’s my pleasure, really,” I smiled back.

“So, where can we find a place to buy a compass and a… boat ride?” she asked.

I repeated the question to Old Aughie, who informed me that the closest place was likely a week’s journey away.

“Good test run,” he added, as if I wasn’t thinking that already. If it wasn’t unbearable, I could simply continue on with her, but if it was, I would have an excuse to return to the comforts of home. The following morning, I gathered most of my possessions and off we went into the wide world.


	2. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vex spends all her life's savings on a masturbation joke, the two stay at a wretched inn with Only One Room Left, and there's finally some combat in this 5e-based story... and of course it's a goblin fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Común - A trade creole that was once a human language, but is now sort of eight or more languages in a trench coat. Also known as Saviiran Common. Spoken in this chapter by Vex Chambers and Tyti of Meeksburrow.  
> Hymnal - A common liturgical language. Most people only speak it for purposes of worship, but here Elisabeta Reinanoches and Vex Chambers are able to use it to communicate.  
> Shadar - The language of the Shadowfell, and a daughter language of Sylvan. It is Vex Chambers's native tongue.  
> Goblin - A widespread language of unknown linguistic origin. It is the language that Tyti and Siri of Meeksburrow speak that Vex doesn't understand.  
> Sent - Evarronian copper coin. Ten of them are worth a mince.  
> Mince - Evarronian silver coin. The standard currency.  
> Brink - Evarronian electrum coin. Worth five mince.  
> Clove - Evarronian gold coin. Worth ten mince. Gold coins minted in Ramindel are also called cloves.  
> Curaon - Evarronian paper banknote. Worth one hundred mince.  
> Salamil - Gold coin minted in Kvash.  
> Celestialism - Worship of the nine Saviiran deities who reside in the Celestial Plane (Caripha, Danla, Nashur, Orveon, Phyne, Rath, Scyllas, Siatha, and Tite), often with special emphasis on the four Cornerstone Deities of Civilization (Danla, Nashur, Phyne, and Rath)  
> Leannan - Galbaronian goddess of unconventional beauty, art, sensuality, and vampires. Not typically worshipped in Saviir.  
> The Raven Queen - Mysterious god-queen of the Shadowfell, commonly worshipped by the shadar-kai, or shadow elves.

It was fucking unbearable. Elisabeta was incredibly pleasant company and it was my decision to spend eight cloves hitching a ride, but really! How long can one be expected to walk? After two days of it, I thought I was going to topple into the dirt. We met a kindly farmer in Murwallow who was going all the way to Toverton, and even riding in his cart took us the other eight days. After all that, though, I really had grown quite fond of Elisabeta, which weighed heavily on my mind as we made our way into Toverton in search of that compass and that ship.

My tall, strong companion took a deep breath, taking in the sea air like an old friend’s embrace. I didn’t feel like I was missing much - the brine was so strong I could taste it on my tongue even if I couldn’t smell it too. As we made our way towards the Mossbarge Mariner & Piscatoria, she cleared her pretty throat.

“So… things have already been easier,” she began nervously, “I know you’ve hated it the whole way, but… I was wondering if there was any way for me to make it worth your while.”

“You could fuck my everliving mind out my wee body,” I said in Shadar.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she muttered, suspicious.

“Ah. Ehm, well… I’ll think about it,” I conceded in Hymnal, “I’ve hated every miserable second of walking, but if I had to walk with anyone, I’m eternally thankful it could be with you.”

She laughed and blushed, not sure what to say. I tried gathering the courage to say more, but before I could we arrived.

“Hello!” a jovial human man with more moustache than hair greeted us as we entered the shop.

“Good evening, my good man! We are here to inquire after a compass and a ship charter,” I announced.

“Dry or wet?” he asked incomprehensibly.

“Ehm… I mean, much drier for you having asked, to be honest, friend,” I responded, “what business is it of yours?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“What are  _ you _ talking about?” I deflected.

“Do you want a dry compass or a wet compass?” he clarified.

“Do we want a dry compass or a wet compass?” I asked Elisabeta in Hymnal.

“I don’t even know what a compass is,” she admitted, “since it was your idea, I’ll let you pick.”

“We will take a wet compass,” I said impulsively, thinking it sounded like more fun.

The man nodded and reached into a drawer for a brass device about twice the size of my fist. It did not look like very much fun.

“That will be ten cloves,” he said, like that was nothing.

“Ehm, how much is the… ah… the dry one?” I asked, counting my purse with my life’s savings in it. Two curaon notes worth ten cloves each, one brink, two mince, and five sents.

“The same. It just depends on your preference,” he said.

“Well,” I tried to plan ahead, “how much to hitch a ride on a ship?”

“That depends,” he shrugged, “where are you trying to go?”

“Ehm, Nivale,” I said, still wrestling with the price of a compass.

“Dunno. Furthest a ship out of here will take you is Larlund, and I imagine you could hitch a ride to Petrivarn from there and that takes you most of the way,” he shrugged, “most ships around these parts charge a mince per mile you’re hitching, to pay for the extra supplies and the trouble of landlubbers. I’d say you’d be looking at spending at least 220 cloves, give or take.”

“220 cloves to get to Nivale,” I gulped down shock.

“220 cloves to get to Larlund. Dunno how much Larrish ships would cost.”

“So one person would be, like, 100 cloves,” I clarified, wondering if I could possibly scrounge up as much for Elisabeta to get closer to her destination.

“Nope. 220 is for one, I’d wager they’d ask 450 for the both of you,” he shrugged, “anyways, do you want the compass or not?”

“Excuse me one moment,” I smiled at him, turning to Elisabeta.

“He says the compass is ten cloves and a ship to Larlund is prohibitively expensive,” I repeated in Hymnal.

“The ship is a luxury sin?” she clarified.

“The ship… the ship is, no, not that. The ship is 450 cloves.”

“Ah. That makes sense. That sounds about right. Well, I don’t have ten gold on me,” she sighed, counting her gold coins - five Kvashi salamils, a Ramindic clove, and an Evarronian clove.

“That’s okay. That’s fine,” I said, feeling sorry for her. I turned towards the salesman and said in Común, “aye, we’ll have the compass. Ehm, you wouldn’t happen to have a map?”

“Plenty of maps, but probably out of your price range. Cheapest one I’ve got is a Beatus map for another ten cloves.”

“You have… you… it’s a  _ what _ map?” I stammered.

“A Beatus map. You know, directional,” he repeated.

“Okay, wonderful. I will take the wet one and the Beatus,” I slapped my last two curaones on the counter; well worth the bit. Thankfully, he threw a map case in with it. I handed our spoils to Elisabeta, who eyed me curiously.

“I… don’t really know how to repay you, Vexine,” she murmured as we walked out of the shop, “that was so much money. Where… where did you get that kind of money?”

“Well, my books sell well enough when I write them and people like to hear me play my music,” I shrug, “but that was sort of the last of it; I don’t think I have enough to hitch a ride home.”

“This map says Cienna is to the west, which I think is the way we came, so maybe I could walk with you, if you don’t mind,” Elisabeta offered generously, then lamented, “I can’t believe I’m so far away! How did I get so turned around? I followed the roads!”

“Roads are bullshit,” I decided, “I’d like that walk home, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Do you mind?”

“No, no, I don’t mind at all.”

We started home, spending the first day figuring out how to use the compass and map, neither of which either of us had ever used before. It was fun. We also got to know one another a bit better; Elisabeta was from Errathan, which was a deeply religious nation of Celestialists. I mentioned that I worshipped Leannan and the Raven Queen, neither of whom were deities in Celestialism. I learned that she had prophetic dreams; ever since she was a child she’d receive cryptic auspices, and she’d learned to interpret them with some semblance of accuracy. Even if I would be happy to return home, I would really miss her. That night, it was late before we found a hamlet to rest in. It was too late for her to flash her charming smile and ask one of the locals if she could do chores for a place to stay, and it was far too late for me to try schmoozing room and board out of the local innkeeper for a set of songs. It seemed like we would have to pay for rooms tonight.

The inn was a ramshackle affair to begin with, and a local boy plucked out a popular song on the lute. Patrons were passed out at their tables, hopefully from the drink and not from the poor young bard’s pathetic performance. Not seeing anyone who appeared to be a proprietor, Elisabeta sat patiently on a stool. Half wanting to show off, half feeling sorry for the boy, I pulled out my violin and hopped up onto the stage. I settled into playing a slow harmony, sussing out the key in which he was playing rather quickly. I was tired, so it was nothing special or challenging, but it raised a few heads from their glasses and Elisabeta beamed up at me. Several patrons came to the stage and tossed some extra sents into the young man’s cap.

When we finished the song, the boy turned to me.

“Not half bad, sweetheart, but you were playing the wrong notes,” asserted he.

Not wanting to make any bold assumptions, I bit my tongue and asked, “Aye? My apologies - I thought we were in A major. What key were you in?”

“No, no, it’s ‘what room are you in,’ and it’s room six upstairs. A key is what you use to turn the bolt. Anyways, shall I see you in there for some private lessons?” he waggled his eyebrows, clearly confident for a young man of no more than sixteen.

“Well, I’m not much of a teacher but I have a doctorate of musical theory from Evernight University, so I think I can at least teach you what a musical key is for, say, the copper in your cap,” I replied, ever the smartass.

“Bitch, I’m Robbie Buttons. Who are you?” he scoffed.

“I’m Doctor Vex Chambers, motherfucker, and I could  _ literally _ outplay you in my sleep,” I rolled my eyes and hopped off the stage. Elisabeta waved me over; she’d found the innkeeper and needed me to translate.

“You two need a room for the night? You’re in luck - I have the last room in town available. Only a brink.” he offered.

“We’ll take two rooms for… a  _ brink? _ As in, half a clove,” I laughed, looking around me at the shabby interior. Old Aughie charged a brink for a room at the Vagabond’s Familiar, but the rooms were clean there and the air didn’t taste like piss.

“No, Miss, the only way you’re getting two rooms is if you join me in mine. I’m serious that this is the last room in town, and if you don’t want to pay a brink for it, someone else will,” he winked charmlessly.

“He says there’s only one room, and he’s renting it for a brink,” I sighed to Elisabeta in Hymnal.

She turned red in shock, “That’s the electrum piece right? Half a gold?”

I nodded. She sighed.

“I suppose I can pay, since you were so kind to me,” she opened up her coin purse.

“Hold on,” I said in Hymnal, then switched to Común, “Listen champ. That’s not true and we both know it. It’s late; no travelers are coming through. Now, that leaves this crowd. They seem to be perfectly content at their tables, but I could be wrong.”

Here, I raised my voice to address the crowd, “Hey! Anyone here interested in paying half a gold piece for a room here?”

Most people went back to sleep, but there were some hearty chuckles. I smiled smugly.

“Alright, alright. You come to bed with me and your friend gets a free room,” he bartered.

“No, you’ll give us the room for… ehm… for four mince, and you’ll spend the rest of your life pretending that your hand is me,” I countered.

“Four mince? Fine, done,” he said quickly.

“I got it down to four mince,” I informed Elisabeta.

“It still seems high, but at least we saved a silver,” she sighed. I redid my math in my head and cursed internally.

The room was just as shabby as the rest of the establishment, and worse, there was only one thin sliver of a bed. There wasn’t even a desk, just a chamber pot and a chair that practically begged that someone of my weight would steer far clear from it.

“Well, Vexine, I can take the floor,” Elisabeta offered.

Steeling my nerves, I took aim and shot my shot. “Ehm, actually, I don’t do well sleeping alone. Would you mind-”

“Vexine, I’m not a bed warmer,” she interrupted, unrolling her bedroll a bit huffily.

I decided that sleeping in the nude as usual would probably be a terrible idea after that exchange, so I changed into my big wool dress, praying that it wouldn’t catch any of my piercings as I tossed and turned. I looked over the piercings in my hips and navel… these would likely be fine, and my dress wouldn’t bother my eyebrow piercings or any of my ear piercings. Hesitantly, I climbed into the small bed, already mentally steeling myself for my inevitable flight from it upon rolling a bit too earnestly in my sleep. I peered over the edge of the frame and decided to make my amends before dreaming I was a birdie and snapping my wee neck.

“I wasn’t trying to call you a bed warmer,” I murmured, “and I’m sorry that I managed to anyway.”

Elisabeta’s face softened, “Vexine, I’m sorry too. I jumped to conclusions. May I ask what you’re doing?”

“Peering from the rocky clifftops like Olivia before her fatal plummet,” I murmured some more. Hard to not murmur when your chin is pressed to the edge of the mattress and your ass is in the air.

“I see. Is that how small beds appear to short people?” she teased.

“Aye,” I sat up and nodded very seriously. She laughed and I cracked a smile, “goodnight and sweet dreams, Elisabeta.”

“Sleep well, Vexine,” she responded.

Not sleeping well alone, however, was more than just a come-on, though. I spent entirely too long awake, listening to Elisabeta’s small snores and thinking about home. I missed being clean. I missed living comfortably. I missed not being sore, even after performing for half the night and fucking for the other half. I missed Old Aughie’s cooking. I missed writing and singing and fucking, my own little schedule that was so far away from me now. My space, my schedule, my stuff. I looked at the stupid map I’d spent 10 cloves as a joke on. It was nigh incomprehensible, just a circle with some lines and names that meant nothing to me.

Well, not entirely nothing. I saw Isiltum, which was the capital of Evarron, and Flok, the capital of Extedhuul, which was pretty far west of here. On this map, they were very close together. On the other side of the circle, on the bottom, was the city Elisabeta said I’d fit in - Santiaga. My eyes rose, looking for Nivale, but what I found was much more intriguing to me. Right there, in the middle of the map, the word “Addermouth.” Addermouth, the big city that my family would travel to in our coach as a child. It must have been a coincidence, but what a strange coincidence it was. So strange it was to me that I entirely got distracted from my initial goal of trying to figure out how long it would take to get to Nivale. Reading by moonlight strained my eyes, though, and I put the map back in its case and rolled over.

Morning came with all its usual hellish light and heat and the taste of stale ale in my mouth, though I hadn’t drank at all last night. I rubbed my eyes and felt the familiar twinge that the oppressive morning sun brought to my guts. I stretched, trying to remember if I’d seen an outhouse or a restroom - though plumbing might be entirely too much to ask for in such a tiny settlement. Then I locked eyes on my enemy - the little ceramic pot in the corner of the room. Perhaps I could wait. I sat up. My guts churned. Perhaps not. Fifteen minutes of singing the poop song to keep everything magically clean and I was on my way downstairs. Elisabeta was already down there with her own pack, daintily eating a bowl of porridge.

“Pardon me, innkeep, do you have any meat?” I asked.

“Just one type of meat,” he responded, thankfully behind the counter so I couldn’t observe the extent of his rude gesture.

“Yep,” I sighed and turned away, deciding it would be better to go hungry than to eat here. Only nine days of this bullshit and I’d be back to my usual fare.

“Would you like the rest of mine?” Elisabeta offered.

“No, thanks,” I said miserably.

“Come on. You have to keep up your strength. We have a long day ahead of us,” she pushed it slightly towards me, “besides, Mr. Aughrim warned me that it was best to keep you well fed.”

I laughed. I did get quite irritable if I didn’t eat. I slurped down the lumpy porridge with no relish, but it did mean I wasn’t quite so empty. To my annoyance, our second day on the road was bright and sunny, a gentle breeze blowing from the west. Elisabeta pulled her hair up into a messy bun and I pulled mine into a ponytail, though flyaways still consistently got into every nook and cranny on my face. Some time after lunch, we ran into our first bit of trouble on this journey. As we were walking along, there was some rustling in some suspicious-looking shrubbery apparently growing in the runoff ditches on the side of the road. Fool that I was and am, I called out a hello at the improbable bushes. I couldn’t understand what language the bush hissed back at me, but I could clearly tell it was swearing under its breath. Elisabeta sighed and drew her sword.

“What’s happening,” I asked in Hymnal, “why are the bushes mad at me?”

“Goblins,” Elisabeta responded, “hopefully they’ll let us pass.”

“We mean no harm,” I shouted in Común.

A gang of five goblins surrounded us from out of the ditches, brandishing weapons. I had never seen goblins before - the tales had always made them seem so horrible and hideous, but they didn’t look like that to me now. They looked scared and tired, just as scared and tired as I was, and rather adorable - short and chubby with big eyes and big ears. There was one who was particularly striking, with big blue eyes and tangled black hair. She aimed her sling at me when all of the others were focused on Elisabeta. She had no way of knowing that I couldn’t hurt a fly or that I’d never been in a fight, she just knew that I wore no armor and that I could be used as a pressure point to get Elisabeta to back down.

“Do any of you speak Común?” I asked hopefully.

“Coin and food,” one of the women replied in Común.

“Aye, of course,” I nodded, reaching into my purse to pull out my last five sents.

One of the others yelled something in another language when I reached into my purse, and that’s when everything kicked off. One of the goblins behind us ran up to Elisabeta and tried to stab her but she was clearly anticipating it, sidestepping him easily. As I was watching that exchange, a rock struck me in the side of the head. I turned to see the one who had been aiming for me scrambling back into the ditch for cover, but I could still see her. One of the others with a sling hit Elisabeta, who looked pretty hurt by it. Another stone glanced off of her armor, but the other goblin behind us stabbed her in the leg. I started singing a song, voice laden with power, as she turned and cut the man down in return. As he lay bleeding out, I pressed my hands to Elisabeta, letting the power of my song flow through her, healing her wounds and inspiring her.

She was able to parry the dagger, but once again, I wasn’t looking at my own assailant, whose next rock hit me in the back of the head, and down I went like a wee sack of beans. Before I could even comprehend what had happened, I was awake again, with Elisabeta standing over me. The woman from before was shouting in a croaky voice for coin and food. I blinked as my head breached the surface of coherence.

“I said, ‘aye!’ Aye, you infamous skulk!” I sat up, surveying the scene. The first goblin could be saved through magic, but the other one with a dagger was too far gone. I sang a dirge for them, sending up a little prayer to the Raven Queen that their rest might be more comfortable, and ran a hand over the gash in the first one’s chest. Tears sprang to my eyes as the wound began to close up, the bleeding slowing to a trickle, though he remained unconscious. Standing up, I went into my purse again. This time I pulled out all my money and remaining rations.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I really am.” 

They didn’t seem trusting, speaking amongst themselves in their language. Elisabeta looked at me and looked at them, and realization seemed to dawn on her about what she had done. She fished in her bag too, the goblins eyeing her warily. She pulled out some of her own rations and five cloves.

“Vex, put your money away. You have so little,” she said, “give them this gold and our food, please tell them that the extra is for his family.”

They were entranced now, seeing the cloves. I could see the one in the ditch; her mind was turning. I gave the leader the money and food, and she distributed it among them. Elisabeta healed the one I had saved enough that he could walk with them. The leader turned to me.

“Ask big one… um… Chops go in ditch. Please,” she requested, gesturing to the body.

“Do you want us to help bury him?” I offered.

“Bury?” she cocked her head. I made a digging motion and she shook her head, saying, “I need food. You need food. Crows need food. Crows can be food for me, I can be food for crows.”

“I understand,” I said, and I did. In the Shadowfell, you had to bury your dead to keep them from rising. I never understood the tradition here.

Elisabeta laid the body gently in the ditch and three of the remaining goblins seemed to pay their respects to him before moving on down the road. The fourth remained behind. It was the one who had knocked me out with a rock to the head. Elisabeta and I looked at one another and she spoke.

“Name is Tyti,” she managed in very shaky Común.

“Vex,” I pointed to myself, then Elisabeta, “Elisabeta.”

“Why give money? I kill you,” she asked, “not afraid, it seems, so… why?”

I laughed, “I’ve lived way too long. Death isn’t scary to me. My death isn’t.”

I translated to Elisabeta and we agreed on the next statement, “You need help. We can help. Not a lot, maybe, but… a little.”

She seemed to look for the right words for a long time, finally saying, “I… fast, I… talk good Goblin, I desperate. Teach I Común, I work. Hey, no limit! Eh? Eh? What you talk?”

She was very convincing, and despite the language barrier, it was clear that she was a natural talker. In fact, Elisabeta, who didn’t even speak Común, understood what she was saying through body language alone, so we agreed. She could join us, as long as she didn’t try to kill us anymore. She promised she wouldn’t. Setting back out on the road, it was clear that she would fit in well. Elisabeta, who enjoyed the sound of chatter but was shy, enjoyed having two chatterboxes speaking broken Común with one another. Tyti picked things up quickly, and Elisabeta seemed to be picking up a word here or there simply by asking what we were talking about. We also learned a lot about our new companion - she had been put on what the goblins called “highway duty” for playing a prank with her friend Siri that pissed off the leader of their warren, a goblin called Meek.

“Why do you have to do highway duty?” I asked curiously.

“If we do hunt or do fish, Tallfolk do hunt on us,” she shrugged, gritting her teeth a bit, “we do… do… uh,” she mimed growing and I nodded that I understood, though the word escaped me too, “we do it and they,” she mimed fire.

“They burn your fields,” I offered, my voice raising a bit. She nodded, “those worthless worms! Sons of fucking nagpas!”

“What’re you two talking about?” Elisabeta asked in Hymnal.

“They can’t fucking eat because of dipshit poaching laws, and if they try to farm, the Evarronians burn their fields!” I shouted incredulously.

“I’ve never heard anyone swear so much in the Holy Tongue,” Elisabeta blinked, then absorbed what I had said and became quiet and contemplative. We watched her in patient silence, and when she offered no more, we walked in that quiet for awhile. I believe that we were all thinking similar things, but as for me, I was stewing in what Tyti had said. I was a strange creature in these lands; a pale grey elf with big black eyes and silver hair, covered in piercings and dressed in mesh and lace. Still, I was an elf, and that was familiar enough that I could walk into town. I could learn the language, be among the people, hold down a job - a  _ good _ job. This woman was born here, in these lands, and couldn’t say the same.

How little I knew about the land that I had lived in for over two decades! How holed up I had been in my safe little routine, in my safe little corner of this world. I didn’t know the shape of the land, nor the other cultures in it. Even the culture I’d fancied myself a part of was a mask, the ugly parts covered up to me and doubtlessly to others in it. How many adventurers had I slept with who had wooed me with brave tales of slaughtering hideous, evil goblins on the road? I had never given it a second thought. I had equated them to the undead that blighted the roadside of the Shadowfell, but my ignorance had cost people their lives. I knew humans who poached, orcs and elves who fed their families with fish from the Duke’s streams and game from his woods. Never once did I condemn them, so how had I become so apathetic against goblins?

After a difficult hour, Tyti spoke up again to apologize, but I cut her off.

“I’ve been here for twenty-five years. I’m sorry I didn’t know, that I kept myself… kept myself from knowing. I could have done some good. I could have helped,” I said.

Tyti looked at me and I could see an idea forming in her mind, the same insight that led her to understand that I was the weak point of the two of us giving her another epiphany.

“Vex, how many money can you get in a day?” she asked.

“Ehm, it depends on the day, but probably two or three cloves on a good day,” I shrugged.

“A  _ day? _ ” she gasped, and I could practically see her blue eyes become big gold coins at the prospect, “what do you do?”

“Play music,” I pulled out my violin. Elisabeta asked what we’d been talking about, and when I filled her in, she looked similarly stunned.

“Surely you mean to say that you earn two to three cloves a week, or are cloves the silver coins?” she insisted.

“No, the gold… the… the gold ones,” I clarified, suddenly embarrassed, “Is that unusual?”

“We would barely make more than that between all of us,” she murmured, “my mother, my father, and I.”

“Hey, Vex,” Tyti cut in, not knowing what we were saying, “I want do music.”

“Do you know how to play any instruments?” I asked in Hymnal without thinking, then repeated myself in Shadar and finally in Común. Everyone laughed at that, and the two teased me in two languages as we continued westward toward Soravale.


	3. Bed, Bath, and Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gang starts getting better at language. Vex gets sick of all this travelling nonsense, Tyti officially becomes a first level PC, and Elisabeta finds the time to shape Tyti into a warrior and also shape some wood into a tasteful dining room set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Común - A trade creole that was once a human language, but is now sort of eight or more languages in a trench coat. Also known as Saviiran Common. Spoken in this chapter by Vex Chambers, Tyti of Meeksburrow, and by Elisabeta in very limited capacity.  
> Hymnal - A common liturgical language. Most people only speak it for purposes of worship, but here Elisabeta Reinanoches and Vex Chambers are able to use it to communicate.  
> Goblin - A widespread language of unknown linguistic origin. It is Tyti's native language, and the only script she is able to read. She says "fuck" in this language several times during this chapter.  
> Sent - Evarronian copper coin. Ten of them are worth a mince.  
> Mince - Evarronian silver coin. The standard currency.  
> Brink - Evarronian electrum coin. Worth five mince.  
> Clove - Evarronian gold coin. Worth ten mince.  
> Curaon - Evarronian paper banknote. Worth one hundred mince.  
> Leannan - Galbaronian goddess of unconventional beauty, art, sensuality, and vampires. Not typically worshipped in Saviir.  
> The Raven Queen - Mysterious god-queen of the Shadowfell, commonly worshipped by the shadar-kai, or shadow elves.  
> Phyne - Celestial goddess of purity, family, and childbirth. Considered one of the "Cornerstone Deities of Civilization" in Celestialism.

We stopped by Tyti’s place to get her things. People in the underground village of Meeksburrow stared at us; at the best, curious, at the worst, furious, but mostly just wary and weary and too tired and hungry to care. Tyti’s hole was small - just a 10x10 room with a bedroll made of patchwork animal hides, a lyre, a small mess kit, and some odds and ends. She said goodbye to half the warrens, it seemed, and then we were on our way again. I wondered aloud if we were going to be able to travel into town, and brave Elisabeta said yes and that she’d fight everyone if she had to, but Tyti insisted we stop to rest far outside any Evarronian settlement.

This worked well enough for the next few days; it was a little slower going than we would have liked due to having to stop early. On the other hand, that meant I could often go into town and play a full set. The first couple of nights, the crowds were decent and enthusiastic, and making a spectacle of myself drew in extra business which afforded me decent tips. By the third night, though… I could blame it on the dead night, or the small town, or the tough crowd, but the truth was, I was exhausted. The long days on the road, plus working a full four hours at the tavern was taking its toll on me. I kept a sent that was thrown up to me, and the other ten sents I split between Tyti and Elisabeta. The tavern keeper was even reluctant to part with the rations I was owed for that lackluster performance, but fortunately we were able to eat for another day.

“How many days do we have left on the road?” I complained to Elisabeta.

“I think… probably six or seven at this pace. Not quite a week,” she shrugged, “will you survive for that long?”

“No,” I groaned, “I want to hire another ride. I want to get home.”

Her face fell at this, “Yes, I suppose you’ve been gone for far too long. Well, you should tell Tyti.”

I relayed my plan to Tyti, who shook her head vigorously.

“You are… you have… your clever got  _ nukken _ lost, Vex,” she scolded, “put me on a cart with a Evarronian?”

“Aye, good point,” I conceded. Travelling with a goblin was tough, but I couldn’t even imagine how tough it was to have to be this constantly vigilant. I reassessed my energy level. Could I play another night? Another seven? If it meant my survival, could I keep up this pace? My assessments came up grim, and my admiration for Tyti grew. Nevertheless, the answer was no to all the above, so we would have to find another way, a fact that I conveyed to both of my travelling companions.

“I have an idea,” Elisabeta said, putting her pack on the ground and gesturing for Tyti to step into it. I put my hands on my hips and watched as Tyti plopped down into the backpack and Elisabeta piled all her stuff back in. Her little ears still poked out, but it was a lot less noticeable. With a grunt, Elisabeta hoisted the whole affair onto her back to the protests of the packs’ leather straps. She put her back down.

“That works,” Tyti announced, clambering back out.

We all nodded sagely and agreed to stay at the next town that we came to for a few days to recuperate and gather our strength. We’d smuggle Tyti into the inn and keep her in the room while we earned some money and lived like people. Tyti and I were so chafed at the thighs from all this walking bullshit that we could hardly believe it and agreed that a bath sounded lovely. I’d been cleaning myself exclusively via magic and perfume and I just felt filthy. It couldn’t help matters that I didn’t have time to get laid so I’d been masturbating every night, and I couldn’t be certain, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I was no longer alone in that ritual.

Night fell, and we found ourselves in the riverside village of Mercival. It was a dreary evening, with the wind picking up and weather coming in from the west. We managed to book a few nights at the local inn. This place was much nicer than many inns along the way; though that came at a price. Really, unlike our unfortunate stay before we’d met Tyti, a brink for staying here was not that bad, but it could easily wipe out our funds if we weren’t careful. I was able to arrange that we’d pay a brink a day for twelve meals and the innkeeper wouldn’t charge us for the room as long as I played a set each night.

Clean linen sheets, a double bed, and tasteful decor greeted us as we entered our room and I nearly wept with joy. We let Tyti out of the pack and she full-on gawked. Elisabeta whistled a tune I didn’t recognize as she unrolled her bedroll, and the mood was infectious so despite not knowing how to whistle, I harmonized with humming of my own as I unpacked my writing supplies and claimed the writing desk. Tyti clambered onto the bed, feeling the material with a serious expression on her face.

“You’ll be wanting the bed, then?” I asked.

“Big… big…  _ nuk! _ The big  _ nukken _ bed,” she sighed in exasperation, indicating all three of us could sleep on it.

“Bed,” Elisabeta said in Común, to our surprise, and patted her bedroll.

Tyti pointed between me and herself rapidly, then patted the bed. I nodded.

“I... “ she had to think for a moment to get her thoughts in order and translated, “I sleep… uh… tits out. You good?”

“I sleep naked too… is that…” it was my turn to forget Común, “ehm, you good?”

She nodded. I tuned my violin and we decided we’d like to have a bath.

“Elisabeta, we’re going to the bathhouse,” I tossed my head.

“Have fun!” she smiled.

“Aye, well, you should come too!” I hinted as Tyti waited to climb back in the pack.

“Why, do I stink?” she blushed and clamped her arms to her side.

“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t smell,” I shrugged, “I just mean… you know, Tyti and all that.”

She nodded slowly, clearly calculating something. “Well… I can take you there, but how will we pay for her bath?”

“Well, we could either try sneaking her in or just try our luck,” I shrugged, then had an idea, “or! Or, we could buy her, like, a disguise!”

“I like that idea,” Elisabeta nodded.

We were able to find a tailor who was selling traveler’s clothes in half-cut that included gloves and a hood. I fretted silently that the bust and hips wouldn’t fit; Tyti was a bit more well-endowed than the more slender fit of her pieces… it seemed that she had more gnomes come through than halflings. I paid two cloves for the entire outfit and miraculously, it did fit, albeit very, very snugly. We set off from the inn and arrived at the bathhouse with a minimum of curious looks.

“Alright, have fun, you two,” Elisabeta smiled.

“I thought you were coming with us!” I pouted.

“I… well, I think… I’ll probably just wash up in the river, like I have been,” she shrugged.

“I will pay for you, if that’s what you mean,” I cocked my head, trying to understand. There was some large measure of embarrassment and insecurity in her stance and in her speech, so I quickly added, “but of course, you don’t have to. I just want you to know that you’re welcome to join us.”

We ended up heading in without her after all, and I forked over three mince for a private bath. We settled in, and as I sank into the warm, clean water, I could feel the cleansing and sighed with contentment. Tyti gave a little squeak as she slid in next to me.

“Hot!” she said in pleasant surprise.

“Hot,” I nodded in absolute bliss.

After a moment or two of soaking and lazily washing, she brought up what was on both of our minds. “No Liz, eh?”

“She’s a little shy, I think,” I speculated.

“She’s hot,” Tyti commented.

“Aye,” I giggled, “that she is.”

“Vex,” she began hesitantly, “do tallfolk… fuck? For fun, I mean.”

“Aye, I certainly do,” I laughed, “not just for fun, even. At least for me, I fuck for comfort and for a sense of self-confidence and as a form of worship.”

“Worship… like, gods and stuff?” she asked.

I nodded. “I worship Leannan and the Raven Queen. I’m sorry if this is a fucked up question, but do goblins worship?”

“Yeah. We worship all kinds of shit. Whatever you want. Fey, fiends, elementals… sometimes gods, but… but ours. Kinda,” she explained, “like instead of Phyne, there’s the White Finch, and instead of the Raven Queen, there’s the Crowmother. Those are the two most common, anyway.”

“Birth and death,” I nodded.

“Birth and death,” she agreed.

“Do you worship anything?” I asked.

“Nah… Siri worships the White Finch and kinda does… how to say  _ Drudism? _ ...Druidism? Wow, okay, Druidism… but I just kinda worship me.”

“That makes sense.”

“So… I’ve never heard of Leannan, but you worship by fucking?”

“Among other things. Creating, finding the beauty in everything, loving, giving yourself - in a lot of ways, giving is the heart of worship for us, and I give my body to her through others.”

“Is that why you fuck yourself every day?”

“Shit! Sorry, I try to be quiet about it,” I turned grey and laughed nervously, “but aye, that’s what that’s about primarily.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Tyti pushed me playfully, “nothing quiet about that pussy, Vex. You’re very sexy.”

“Thank you! You’re very sexy too! I just,” I sighed, “I’m embarrassed because of Elisabeta. She doesn’t seem comfortable with all of that, and I hope I haven’t grossed her out.”

Tyti nodded. “She’s hard to…”

“Hard to read?” I offered.

“Yeah, thanks. She’s hard to read when it comes to fuck,” Tyti sighed, then turned to me, “how do tallfolk flirt? Is it considered rude to ask to fuck?”

“Aye, but sometimes you can get away with it. Probably not with Elisabeta, if she’s even into girls, but with sluttier women that can work,” I said, clueless.

“Would you like to fuck me tonight?” Tyti asked.

My eyes widened, “I… aye! Aye, I would.”

“I want to see the way you worship,” she grinned.

That night I was distracted and my head was only half in the game. The innkeeper shot me a look but didn’t say anything, fortunately, and I gave my meager tips to my companions. Elisabeta gave us some line about going to change her copper for electrum and left us alone, and what followed was magical. At first Tyti snickered at my rituals, but she asked to see the way I  _ worshipped _ and not simply fuck, and so I lit the incense and candles, sang the hymns, put on the holy lipstick, and gave her the four sacred kisses - lips, palms, and vulva. She shivered, then, and her snickering stopped. The Lover, Holy Matriarch of Vampires, Lady of the Everflowing Heart, was with us. I felt her everywhere - guiding my fingers and lips around Tyti’s body as a vessel for her perfect touch.

Our sighs, giggles, and moans were like a chorus, the perfect ache and longing welling up inside us until we couldn’t contain it, and couldn’t, and couldn’t, until she was far too sensitive and we ascended to the afterglow. We danced over one another’s bodies in absolute bliss, and in this exploration we found my song in crescendo twice more. We only concluded the ritual out of consideration for poor Elisabeta, who was asleep downstairs sitting on a corner table.

“It doesn’t even smell like sex in here,” she commented blearily when we brought her back up.

“She burnt like this many candles,” Tyti held up five fingers and Elisabeta raised her eyebrows before collapsing onto her bedroll with a contented sigh. Tyti and I crawled into the luxurious bed and fell asleep. That night I must have slept for eight hours like an absolute log. I didn’t even try to guide my dreams, just let them float and wander where they may, and wondered in them if this was how Tyti dreamt when she slept. When I awoke and the sun was already in the sky, my companions stirring beside me, it was somewhat disorienting and I wondered if I was back at home in the Familiar for a moment.

Alas, I was still on my adventure, still a journey of several days before the comforting embrace of normalcy wrapped around me once more. I had no desire to walk any longer, though, and collapsed back into the bed. The next couple of days I played at being a tutor, teaching Tyti how to read. Thankfully, she’d already mastered most of the basics of it on her own, so it was just helping with the script, and we made a chart approximating the Human script of Común to the Goblin script, which was unlike any other runes I’d seen in my time here. I also translated between the two quite a bit. Tyti had a morning exercise routine that emphasized flexibility and understanding of one’s body, and Elisabeta commented that she’d run into Cariphan nuns that fought using similar techniques, so I would translate as the two sparred.

Overall, I was the least ambitious of the three of us during those four days of rest - I mostly ate, performed, and chatted. Tyti went through book after book that I borrowed from the miniscule local library, leveraging my own work to ensure their safe return. In truth, I think the library was a particularly kindhearted book merchant, and I’m sure he couldn’t read Shadar because there was no way a merchant would be lending out reputable books in return for my novel, which, like all of my body of work, was essentially literary smut. Elisabeta, in addition to keeping in shape sparring with Tyti, fabricated an entire set of chairs out of some wood she’d found on one of her walks, and the innkeeper was so taken with them she paid a whole eight cloves for the whole set.

As for my tips, I cleaned up. Leannan blessed me the night after Tyti and I had worshipped; people were throwing mince and even brinks - a merchant even came in and put a curaon note in my violin case. I kept the note for myself and then each of us got an additional five gold. The other nights were more normal, but normal in a “Vagabond’s Familiar” way, not a “on the road” way. Over the course of the four nights, I was able to make 311 mince- 20 to cover the food, then I kept the curaon and one mince and split the remaining between them… 95 mince each, mostly in brinks and cloves. The trip from Murwallow to Toverton had been eight cloves, so at this point, a cart from Mercival back to Soravale for just myself would be well within my means to charter.

I planned to tell them in the morning, then depart. If the cart went at a decent clip, I’d be back home by the 32nd or 33rd. That was the plan, anyway. I awoke that night after four hours of dreaming of my journey homeward, finding myself refreshed, restored, and face to face with one of the goblins that had been on highway duty with Tyti sneaking into our window.


	4. Dagnatt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our lovable heroes spend this holy supermoon learning about the true meaning of Dagnatt... just kidding, Vex gets stood up and the gang follows a group of suspicious strangers to a secondary location. Also Siri is here now. Yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elder's Day - Every 18th of Semilla is the holy day of the goddess Phyne, where children are expected to honor and care for their parents in some way. We skipped it since Vex and Elisabeta were on the road very far away from their parents.  
> Dagnatt - The holy days of Caripha are considered "at random" until the world gets better at astronomy. They occur when the Dagnatt Moon appears in the sky, which we would call a supermoon. It's a simple night of "anything goes" revelry which is usually just a lot of drinking and making out.  
> Hangover Titos - Hangover Titos refers to the first Nasillos of Pier Delun. As the name implies, Hangover Titos denotes the beginning of a "second weekend" replacing the beginning of the work week. Scyllas's "holiday" is actually more commonly celebrated for over half a week, starting on the preceding Titos and ending on Finas, after the "Fat Bajamates" on Danillas. During this time, the streets fill with loud music and revelers. Despite what Vex may say, it's way wilder than Dagnatt, especially on Second Silas.  
> Común - A trade creole that was once a human language, but is now sort of eight or more languages in a trench coat. Also known as Saviiran Common. Spoken in this chapter by Vex Chambers, Tyti and Siri of Meeksburrow, and by Elisabeta in very limited capacity.  
> Hymnal - A common liturgical language. Most people only speak it for purposes of worship, but here Elisabeta Reinanoches and Vex Chambers are able to use it to communicate.  
> Goblin - A widespread language of unknown linguistic origin. It is Siri and Tyti's native language.  
> Sothlander - The language of the Umana Coast, also rarely called Modern Human. This is the language that Elisabeta Reinanoches says "thank my goddess I didn't aim lower" in.  
> The Raven Queen - Mysterious god-queen of the Shadowfell, commonly worshipped by the shadar-kai, or shadow elves.  
> Caripha - Celestial goddess of beauty, entertainment, and healing. Strongly associated with the moon.  
> Rath - Celestial god of the sun, war, and retributive justice. Considered one of the "Cornerstone Deities of Civilization" in Celestialism.

I stifled a surprised squeak as she silently shushed me. I shushed her back, naked and indignant at being startled in the wee hours of the morning.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“What?” she cupped one of her large, pointed ears. I shuffled closer to her.

“What are you doing here?” I repeated.

“What?” she asked again, “I can’t understand you. Your accent is too thick.”

“My ass is too thick?” I stifled a giggle, being a bit hard of hearing, “aye, thanks! You have gorgeous tits.”

“What?” she sighed, “no, nevermind. It’s fine. Please don’t freak out. I’m here to keep an eye on Tyti, that’s all.”

“I’m sure you’re welcome; any friend of Tyti’s is a friend of ours,” I smiled.

“Wha… Vex? Who are you talking to?” Tyti muttered, rousing from sleep. She focused her bleary eyes and leapt over me, shouting, “Siri!” and embracing her friend.

This, of course, woke Elisabeta, who scrabbled for her sword as everyone shook their head and stage-whispered “no, no, no, no, no!” She sighed and sat up. She was not a morning person.

“What… who?” she said in the shaky Común she’d been practicing.

“Ladies, this is my best friend, Siri,” Tyti gestured to the newcomer, “Siri, this is Vex and Liz, my new friends.”

I translated into Hymnal for Elisabeta.

“Nice to meet you, I hope,” Siri chuckled nervously, “though, I  _ really _ can’t understand what this one is saying.”

“It’s hard. She’s from the Shadowfell and her accent is almost as thick as she is,” Tyti patted my ass for emphasis.

“Can we get less naked, please?” Elisabeta muttered shyly, though I couldn’t help but notice her stealing little glances at us.

“If you’re sure,” I said in my best sultry murmur, sliding my dress on. Tyti pulled her new traveling garb on.

“I need a dress,” she fretted, “nothing fancy, just something cute and pink.”

“Ach, I’ll commission one for you in the morning before I leave,” I smiled.

“Leave?” Tyti frowned.

“Ehm, aye. I meant to tell you both, but I think I’ll have enough for a cart home, which now we could super not do for all of us with two of you,” I shrugged, my heart sinking at Tyti’s disappointed expression.

“ _ Leave? Home? _ What’s going on?” Elisabeta asked worriedly.

“Aye… I think I have enough to get myself a cart,” I said halfheartedly.

“You already spent Elder’s Day on the road,” there was a hint of pleading in her voice, “and now Dagnatt too?”

“It’s a Dagnatt tonight?” I asked, “how do you know?”

“My dreams are always most intense the nights before, of, and after Dagnatt,” she replied, “and this one that I woke from… it wasn’t good. Caripha has led me to this town tonight for a reason. Either that or I’m about to lose my virginity. Sometimes the imagery is hard to interpret.”

“I might stick around if it’s the latter,” I giggled in Shadar.

“What?” said everyone.

After a bit more discussion, I acquiesced and agreed to stay another day to celebrate Dagnatt with everyone. It was, after all, one of my favorite Celestialist holidays alongside Hangover Titos, and that was basically just a scheduled Dagnatt. We weren’t the only ones, it seemed; there was a group of newcomers at breakfast who declared that they were there chasing the Dagnatt Moon and that it was supposed to be here tonight. They were all dressed in silver cloaks with green trim, except for their leader, a woman in a green cloak with silver trim. She spent all morning staring at Elisabeta, who politely tried not to notice.

“Looks like your dream was about your virginity after all,” I teased, a bit enviously. She nodded, blushing and wolfing down her food nervously.

I wanted to do something nice for Tyti, since this would be her first Dagnatt. I went to the tailor who’d sold me the cloak and asked for a pink dress and stocking set in that approximate size, but for a halfling body shape, and he agreed to rush it for tonight. It ended up costing me sixty-five mince, but I was happy with the purchase. It was a good thing that Tyti and Elisabeta were showing Siri some fighting moves and too busy for me to spill the beans on my surprise, so I just tuned my instrument and went downstairs to let the innkeeper know that I would be taking the night off and possibly heading out of town in the morning.

“Good afternoon, Miss Chambers,” she smiled, cleaning a glass mug with a cloth.

“Good afternoon, Miss Daubbs,” I returned sweetly, “I just wanted to let you know that I may not be performing here any longer. How much will I owe you for one more night if I take it off?”

“Oh, not a thing, not a thing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place has been much more lively for your service, and an extra night free of charge is the least I can do for you,” she waved dismissively, “although, I do wish I could convince you to stay with us for a bit longer. This little town’s never seen anything quite as grand as you.”

A dark grey spread across my cheeks and I giggled, “You flatter me, Miss Daubbs.”

“Do you think it’s true?” she asked, a bit shyly, “that tonight is a Dagnatt?”

“Aye, which is why I don’t think I’ll be performing tonight,” I shrugged, “or at least not on a schedule. I’ll have to see where the party takes me.”

“Do you and your girlfriend happen to take Dagnatt Lovers, Miss Chambers?” she all but whispered.

“My girlfriend?” my blush deepened, thinking she knew about Tyti, who was also not my girlfriend yet.

“Yes… pardon my presumption, but the walls are thin and sometimes I imagine that I hear you and Miss Reinanoches sometimes,” she also blushed and looked away, “don’t worry, I am one of you as well! It’s just… in a town this small, I fear I am the only one of us.”

“Aye, I can’t remember the word for us in Común but a  _ blashirit _ ,” I nodded, “either way, Elisabeta and I aren’t girlfriends or anything, and judging by the looks she was getting from that group that came in this morning, she won’t even be in our room tonight.”

“Sounds awfully lonely,” she leaned forward onto the counter, “would you like some company?”

“I mean, Tyti and Siri will be there, so maybe your place would be better,” I realized what I’d said as the words fell out of my mouth.

“There are two more people up there?” she frowned, “I mean… that would explain some things…”

“No, they’re… like, dolls. Little ragdolls with big, dead, button eyes and stitched on mouths,” I lied through my teeth, “they totally throw me off my game but she insists that they stay in the corners of the room and watch over the bed. She says not to worry and that they’re magical, but if you ask me, that literally makes it worse.”

“Yeah, are they magical or are they haunted?” she laughed in agreement, “is she sure they’re not just haunted dolls?”

“Aye! Aye, that’s a great point! I haven’t asked her,” I shrugged widely, “anyway, I’ll see you at Dagnatt.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Maybe I can give you a reason to stay, at least a little longer. You can call me Clare, if you’d like to,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And you can call me Vex, or Vexine, or whatever you’d like, really,” I giggled, “I mean, it’s not like my name is Miss Chambers in the first place; I have three doctorate degrees.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m glad we could make friends, Vex,” she laughed.

When the sun set, the moon was already big and bright in the sky, bathing Mercival in bright blue light. With the help of Elisabeta, Clare moved some tables outside into the moonlight and set up a couple kegs where people could pour their own alcohol. Tyti and Siri came down, Tyti shrouded closely in her traveler’s cloak, but Siri simply walking around in her tattered blouse and skirt. There were a few shrieks and a bit of panic, and Elisabeta and Siri tried in vain to get people to see reason. I hopped up on a nearby table and played a loud, dissonant chord on my violin with an accompanying shower of sparks to get people’s attention. It worked.

“Everyone! It is Dagnatt, the Holy Night of your goddess Caripha,” I paused, both for effect, but also to hope and pray I remembered my details correctly, “she is the goddess of revelry and entertainment… but also of healing. Dagnatt is not just for those at ease in society, but for the outcast and the downtrodden. Extend, then, your hospitality towards these poor people this Holy Night. Save your fear and judgment for another day and let’s all just fucking party!”

There were a handful of cheers, but for the most part, the revelers gave into apathy towards Tyti and Siri and went back to partying, mostly ignoring them. Tyti hesitantly let down her hood, then gave the cloak to Elisabeta entirely to party in her brand new dress. I beamed broadly at her and she smiled shyly back up at me. I hopped down and went to find Clare. It seemed a bit like she was avoiding me, and I soon found out why. She’d put two and two together and didn’t want to be seen around a goblin fucker. A fire of indignation lit in my belly, and it twists my gut now writing this to admit it, but that fire was fueled in part by the rotten, diseased logs of shame. Nevertheless, I convinced Tyti to join me on a makeshift stage with her lyre and together we got people dancing. At one point, an elderly orcish man sat on a chair in front of our table and really went wild on a small wooden flute. It seemed like the unpleasantness of earlier was all but forgotten.

Of course, that was simply an illusion. After we had finished our playing and left the old man to play a haunting solo on his little flute, we were confronted by half of the group of cloaked figures that we’d exchanged glances with at breakfast. The leader was notably absent, but they moved with sure purpose. They were wearing their cloaks and nothing else, their bodies painted with green and silver runes and patterns.

“Fuck, has Dagnatt been a ‘pussy out’ event this whole time?” I sighed, internally debating how big of a faux pas it would be to just lose the dress this late in the night.

“The Goddess of the Moon has demanded that we bring the goblins to her vessel,” they interrupted.

“Yikes, guys,” I chuckled nervously, “you might want to work on your delivery. That was incredibly ominous. Is it gonna be like, fun stuff?”

They glanced between one another, then one of them replied, “oh. Uh, yeah, for sure.”

“I mean, like, can they come too?” Tyti gestured to Elisabeta and I, who waved.

“No,” a third cloaked figure responded.

I relayed the situation to Elisabeta in Hymnal, and she immediately crossed her arms and demanded I ask why not.

“Why not?” I asked, also crossing my arms because I felt it looked cool.

“Only the goblins can enter the presence of the Vessel,” the fourth explained.

“Aye, okay, that makes sense,” I shrugged and repeated the information to Elisabeta. She said nothing, but pursed her lips.

“No it doesn’t, but we’ll pretend it does. In that case, they can still, like, follow us to the Vessel, right?” Tyti now also crossed her arms. It looked super cool. Siri looked between us and nervously crossed her arms too, so now we kinda looked like a poster-printed painting advertising a shitty improv comedy troupe.

“I mean,” the cloaked figures glanced between themselves again, “I guess, as long as they promise not to get in the way.”

“Aye, I mean I really just want to make sure my friends are safe,” I shrugged.

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Siri frowned, “get in the way of what?”

“The… the fun,” another sighed, “look, let’s go, let’s go. That’s the reason we were so ‘ominous’ in the first place… Usually ‘the goddess demands’ isn’t taken as an invitation to waste everyone’s time. We can talk on the way.”

We all shrugged among ourselves, following behind. As they led us towards the edge of town, Elisabeta started talking to me in Hymnal.

“Hey, these guys are fake,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’ve always felt a strong connection to Caripha and this all feels wrong. Green isn’t even a color commonly associated with her,” she explained.

“Oh, shit, that’s fucked up,” I raised my eyebrows, “do you think they’re, like, some sort of human supremacy terror group?”

“I was thinking cult, honestly, but it is really weird that they all seem to be fair-skinned humans,” she nodded.

“Cult could make sense, too… although, the robes and everything would be pretty on-the-nose if that were the case, don’t you think?” I shrugged.

“Hey!” one of them barked in Común, “stop that!”

“Oh, stop what? She only speaks Hymnal,” I snapped back.

“That’s not Hymnal,” another grouched, “I can speak Hymnal and that’s not what it sounds like.”

“What does it sound like, then, smartass?” I snarked.

She shouted something back in a guttural language that I did not recognize.

“Yeah, that’s a cult for sure,” I said to Elisabeta in Hymnal, which happened to be sort of melodic and nasally and not at all growly and curt.

“Okay, okay, okay, everybody shut up,” Siri waved her hands, “someone around here is not speaking Hymnal. Liz, where did you learn how to speak Hymnal?”

I translated to her and she answered, “The voices in my dreams are all in Hymnal, so I took lessons from a local priest,” which I relayed to the group.

“Dreams part is extremely suspicious, but the priest part wins points back. Now you, naked dude. Where did you learn Hymnal?” Siri continued.

“Same place we all did. Directly from the goddess, through her Vessel,” he seemed to get a little more self-conscious of his nudity once it was pointed out and wrapped his cloak around himself.

“I studied it in university as part of my technical language studies, which in the Shadowfell is pretty much either Hymnal, Sylvan, or Draconic since we don’t have gnomes,” I explained preemptively.

“Oh, no, no, no, I didn’t even need your explanation Vex,” Siri shook her head, “we’ve clearly been abducted by some kind of cult.”

“Hey, fuck you! We’re not a cult,” one of the women huffed, “we’re a small heretical sect. Deviation from orthodoxy and lack of congregation is not necessarily cultism!”

“That’s extremely true,” I said, getting caught up in the debate, “but, like, there are other actions that raise red flags. You have a single charismatic leader who seems to make all decisions and make them absolutely.”

“So, you’re implying one of two things here,” she shook her head, “either that a Vessel of a deity is impossible, or that if some sort of Avatar, Speaker, Vessel, etc is extant, that they shouldn’t be given absolute deference.”

“You bring up excellent points,” I conceded, “but consider the context here. This isn’t, like Rath, right? Rath I could see doing some shit like this. ‘Oh, look at me, Rath, the Sun God. I like hierarchies! Listen to my Chosen One or die, ye mortals!’ Like, that’s totally plausible. But this is Caripha we’re talking about.”

“Shut up and keep walking!” the man from earlier barked.

“Just for the sake of argument,” I ignored him and went on, which he did not enjoy.

“No! No more argument,” he turned around, dagger in his hand.

“Oh, come on. I just wanna know, honestly, are you guys gonna do like some kind of creepy sacrificial ritual with my friends,” I asked point-blank.

The rest of them looked among one another knowingly and also drew their weapons.

“Take that as a yes, I suppose,” I muttered, taking out my violin.

Mr. Impatient snarled and loosed a bolt of green flame directly into my chest, which hurt like a motherfucker but somehow was at ambient temperature. Tyti approached the woman who had been silent and performed a fast series of motions that I’d come to associate with her morning stretches, but actually took her into the air as she double jump-kicked the woman in the stomach, letting out a furious yell with the second kick. The woman dropped unconscious as Tyti three-point landed and flowed back into a fighting stance.

“C’mere, you little shit!” the other man exclaimed, charging forward and grabbing for Tyti, who ducked out of his grasp easily.

Elisabeta might have been out of her armor, but she still had her trusty sword. Striding forward, she dealt a strong slash across the chest of the man grabbing at Tyti; a near-mortal blow, and growled, “ _ Agradece mi diosa que no apunté más bajo _ .”

Of course, nobody else could speak Sothlander, but it sounded cool anyways. Taking her sling in one hand, Siri crouched low to the ground and muttered some words in Goblin. The cornflower in her hair seemed to glow slightly as three small stones rose slightly from the dirt road. She snatched them into her other hand, loading one into her sling and letting loose. The stone flew true, leaving behind a slight blue streak as it connected with the hip of the fellow whose hands were still burning with green flames, a sickening crack echoing into the night. I played a soft and somber waltz as I danced around the woman I’d been arguing with to place my fingers to her unconscious ally’s stomach, making certain she would survive the internal damage that Tyti’s powerful legs had dealt. I looked up at Tyti and winked at her. She smiled back at me.

“Hands off my friend, knife ears,” the woman I’d been debating growled, swiveling and stabbing me in the shoulder. Tears fell from my cheeks at the stinging pain, but I held fast.

Green flames shot well over my head, and I glanced backwards but he had loosed his blast far too high and it streaked harmlessly over Siri’s head into the roof of a nearby building. Remembering that humans had terrible night blindness, I thanked the Raven Queen that I hadn’t used my spell that made them glow. Tyti leapt into the air once more, leapfrogging over Chest Gash Man and springboarding hard off of his back, toppling him into the dirt as she tackled his green-handed buddy with double flying fists to his face. Both of them hit the dirt and she landed gracefully once more. Elisabeta swiveled to face the last cultist standing, and she dropped the dagger and raised her hands.

“I’m good, I’m good,” she shouted, “tell her I’m good, elf girl.”

Elisabeta stayed her blade, and I explained that I was simply going to make sure her friends were stable as I took the next quarter of a minute playing my song and making sure the boys were still breathing.

“So, this ritual. What’s the deal there?” I asked.

“I don’t have time to explain it rationally. It… there… there’s  _ nuance _ to these things, and that can’t be boiled down to-” she began.

“There’s nuance in all things, of course,” I nodded, “that makes sense. But if you’re going around killing folks, there’s not a ton of grey area to wiggle around in. There’s gotta be a clear objective.”

“No, no, no, I don’t agree with that,” Siri shook her head, “killing people should always be a last resort.”

“Sort of,” I shrugged, “I dunno, I can’t think of an example of a scenario at the moment where death has to be part of the plan.”

“That’s because there is none!” Siri sighed.

“She’s getting away!” Tyti interjected.

Indeed, our cultist friend was off and running, and we started to give chase, but she rounded a corner and was just straight up gone. We had just started running, so we kept it up. Elisabeta led the chase and it wasn’t long until Siri shouted at us to wait… there was a faint green glow coming from a business on the cross-street, even though this area of town was silent and abandoned for the Dagnatt celebrations happening on the other side of town. Tyti and Siri snuck up to it and Siri stood on Tyti’s back to reach a window to peek into. She waved us over and we crept towards them, also standing in the window. Elisabeta came up behind me and also peeked in.

There was definitely some cult shit going on, with two townspeople stripped of their clothes, painted in runes and patterns, and strapped to two of four tables arranged in a semicircle. Six more cultists seemed to be milling about, waiting for something. Probably our captors. Curiously, the green-robed woman was absent. I tried to stifle a sneeze but my head still jerked forward and thumped on the glass. Elisabeta uttered a short phrase and her sword lit up brightly. She pressed it to the glass in front of us.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

“Don’t worry. I’m blinding them so that they don’t know who we are,” she asserted.

“Well, no, the sword lights up on both sides, so they can actually see us much more easily, and even if not, them knowing who we are doesn’t matter as much as them not noticing us in the first place,” I argued.

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry,” she put out the light in the sword as the cultists inside rushed around to get ready for a fight.

“No, it’s okay. I blew our cover when I sneezed,” I shrugged.

“I don’t know what you fuckers are saying, but we’ve got company,” Tyti announced as she and Siri also prepared for the confrontation.

“I mean I feel like we  _ are _ the company in this case, right?” I said, tucking my violin under my chin. Elisabeta twirled her sword and popped her neck, squaring up into a fighting stance, and another still overtook the night as both sides waited for the other to cross that threshold.


	5. Mercival's Very First Goblin Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gang is given their very first quest, faces some speed bumps in their relationships, and hits level 2.
> 
> Drug mention CW for this chapter, and as a side note, just to shorten the glossaries, I'm going to start omitting words that have been used super frequently, like coinage and languages. Please let me know if you hate this idea bc it'd be super easy to bring it back, I'm just still figuring out how best to present this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dagnatt - The holy days of Caripha are considered "at random" until the world gets better at astronomy. They occur when the Dagnatt Moon appears in the sky, which we would call a supermoon. It's a simple night of "anything goes" revelry which is usually just a lot of drinking and making out.  
> Goatweed - A drug made from the buds of the goatweed plant, often smoked or cooked into food to induce a state of numbness and lethargy in the user. Also known as brother bill or talking goat.

Reaching up to open the door, Tyti found that it was locked and swore. She backed up a bit and gave a backflip kick to the middle of the door, which seemed to crack it a bit but it stood sturdy.

“Kick it just over or under the deadbolt,” I instructed.

“Over isn’t gonna happen, Vex,” Tyti grunted, dealing an impressive standing high kick just under the lock. The door snapped and groaned in protest to this mistreatment. Seeing what we were trying to do, Elisabeta strode over and gave the door another swift kick under the deadbolt, and it slammed open. Six blasts of green flame shot out at us. Most of them fortunately went wide, but one struck Elisabeta and another struck Siri, who was turned around for some unknown reason. I caught her before she hit the ground, channeling my healing song into her.

Tyti took advantage of their terrible vision in the dim light to deliver a double kick to the closest one to the door, taking him down. Two of the cultists shot blasts that would have hit her solidly in the head had she been two feet taller, and Elisabeta maneuvered around the other gentleman by the door and cut him down in one strike to the back. Another cultist tried to lead his shot on her but missed, shattering the window behind her. Siri shot another cornflower powered stone at the cultist who had shot her down, and the stone impacted with a firm crack to her shoulder. Another cultist let loose a powerful blast at Elisabeta, and surprisingly hit her rather squarely, sending her sprawling into the wall. She was still breathing, but she looked in a very bad way. I ran up to her and sang to her. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Get back up, darling, we’re winning,” I whispered to her as I kissed her on the cheek in an attempt to inspire her.

Delivering a flying split kick to the two cultists closest to the hostages, Tyti used that same momentum to get up onto one of the sacrificial tables that was presumably meant for her. The woman she had kicked hit the floor hard and the man spat blood onto the floor, looking pretty hurt for someone who’d only taken a kick and not also a magic rock. Unfortunately, this put Tyti pretty directly at the level these clowns had been aiming their blasts, and one hit her in the chest and sent her sprawling off the table. Elisabeta scrambled to her feet and towards Tyti, finishing the job she started on the way.

My mind raced. Despite what I’d said to Elisabeta, this fight was really not going our way anymore, even with the night fighting affecting the humans’ aim. Tyti was down, Elisabeta looked terrible, and Siri and I didn’t look that much better. I was exhausted. I could maybe heal enough to keep people stable, but the magic of my song was waning and I knew I couldn’t get anyone back up into the fight. The darkness was our only saving grace. I lifted my face skyward to pray. The next thing I saw was the night lighting up green, and then darkness.

I came to; disoriented and dazed. The fight was still ongoing… it seemed that I had only been out for ten seconds or so. Siri was standing protectively over my body. I felt something wet on my upper lip and licked it. Blood. I couldn’t feel my nose. Tyti was knocking out the last of the cultists and Elisabeta was untying the hostages. Siri, seeing that I was alright, ran over to help her. Another cultist, a woman on the ground near to me in a similar state, coughed weakly.

“Please… healer… help them,” she begged me, blearily.

“Don’t move them. I’ll do what I can. Jostling them might make matters worse if their guts are fucked,” I instructed, now pretty glad with my broken nose that my accent was so throaty.

She nodded, and as promised, I looked around, assessing whom I could help. It was too late for the man next to me. Elisabeta’s blade had found his spine. There was also no saving the man nearest to the hostages, but the woman next to him could be saved. She was still breathing, just barely, her head bleeding profusely. Singing quietly to myself through blood and tears, I lay my hands on her and hoped my song would be a hymn to the Raven Queen to spare her life this day. She seemed to stabilize.

Tyti’s legs gave out from under her; she was exhausted. It appeared that she, like the cultist by the door and I, was on her last shred of endurance. She watched me crawl and sing, a look of admiration on her face. Elisabeta and Siri finished helping the hostages to their feet, and I crawled over to the one by Tyti, who seemed to be slipping further towards oblivion. With my hymn, she stabilized too.

“Alright, alright, alright, we have the townsfolk,” Siri said, “let’s get out of here.”

“One moment,” I nodded, stumbling towards the last one who seemed to yet need assistance, “just let me make sure this bastard makes it.”

“He tried to kill you, Vex, let’s get going,” Siri barked.

“Fuck’s sake, Siri, so did you and Tyti,” I shouted, “like a fucking week ago. This’ll just take a couple seconds.”

“I just don’t want more to come. That’s the thing about tallfolk. There’s always more,” she snapped back.

“Just shut up for literally like two and a half seconds. You’re wasting more time yelling at me for saving a man’s fucking life than it’d take me to save his fucking life,” I rolled my eyes.

“Because we have to go! Why do you not get that?” she shouted back.

I sighed heavily and started to sing, feeling the tingling energy welling up in my fingertips.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Siri interrupted.

I ignored her and started again.

“Just let her finish, Siri, it’s fine,” Tyti began to escort her out the door as Elisabeta escorted the hostages.

I turned back to the man and he already seemed stable, his wounds being mercifully superficial after all. I swore at myself under my breath and shuffled after everyone else.

“I’m sorry Siri, you were right,” I apologized on the way out the door.

“What?” she turned back, looking shocked, though she kept walking briskly away from the building.

“I said, I’m sorry. You were right,” I shrugged, “he didn’t even need my help; he was fine.”

“That’s what I thought you’d said, but I couldn’t tell for sure. Your accent and all,” she turned back away from me, but I could all but feel the tension deflate between us and sighed with relief.

Nevertheless, everyone was too tired and beat up to say much of anything. Siri helped me reset my nose so that it wouldn’t heal crooked, which hurt a lot and made me cry, but for which I was very grateful. We stopped by the houses of the townsfolk so they could grab something to wear, and I used magic to clean the paint off of them. We returned to the revel, which was dying down at this point to people pairing off to take Dagnatt Lovers, some of them kissing and touching under the bright moonlight without minding who could see what. Exhausted, beaten within an inch of my life, traumatized, and starving, I decided that mama deserved a little treat too this Dagnatt, and pulled my dress over my head.

“What are you doing?” Elisabeta asked, pointedly not looking my way.

“I hate clothes. Clothes are bullshit. I’m really sorry if it’s weird for you, but I just can’t handle how my dress feels on top of everything else,” I apologized.

“Vex, you don’t have to wear clothes around me if you don’t want to,” Elisabeta shrugged, “it’s only weird because you and Tyti have that thing going on and I don’t want to… It’s just that… Look, point being, it’s fine, and I’m sorry if I seem weird about it. I’m just not used to nudity where I’m from.”

I nodded, a wry grin twisting on my face, “so you think there’s a… a… like,  _ thing _ going on between Tyti and I?”

“You two have sex every night… isn’t that for… you know, wives?” she laughed self-consciously.

“Nope, not at all,” I laughed too, “otherwise I’d have a lot of wives.”

“Is that like a shadow elf thing?” she muttered, realizing it was a weird question before it left her mouth.

“Sleeping around? Aye, a bit. It’s more normal in the Shadowfell where you have to fight tooth and nail to feel anything at all. Polygamy? Not so much. At least in my family. You get married and that’s that until somebody knocks into a Nagpa, y’know?” I explained.

“I… think so? I’m not familiar with the expression but… basically until you die, right?” she nodded, “and… do you think you’re the same way?”

“Definitely. I like being in relationships, but… it hasn’t historically worked out for me. I’d hate to call Tyti and I girlfriends; it’s not like she has a lot of options outside our little group,” I shrugged.

“What’re you two yapping about?” Tyti smiled up at us, a black eye already forming on her adorable face.

“You,” I teased, obscuring the truth in the playfulness. She didn’t buy it even a little bit.

“Yeah, I know. I heard my name, dipshit,” she teased back, “what were you saying about me?”

“How we sleep together all the time. Elisabeta was wondering what we were,” I chuckled nervously.

“You’re an elf and I’m a goblin,” she said, clearly not getting it at all, “hey, where’d your clothes go?”

“Clothes are bullshit and I can’t deal with the texture on my body right now,” I explained, “and… like, no… like, not what we are individually, what we are… together.”

“That’s weird, but I’m not complaining. You look hot,” she smiled, “and I’m really not getting the question, Vex. What we are together? Is this one of your stupid puns?”

“No, like she wants to know if we’re girlfriends,” I murmur quickly.

“Yeah, we’re both girls and friends, as far as I’m concerned,” Tyti nodded, “I mean, I hope we’re friends, y’know?”

“Oh, aye, aye, we’re friends for sure,” I said, letting the conversation drop.

We couldn’t communicate with our new local pals, but fortunately, they led us straight to the local lord’s house, which was notably the only one made of stone. He was still awake and in good cheer, even seeing us battered and bruised. Siri commented something in Goblin to Tyti, who nodded and wrinkled her nose. We explained the events of the night, with the townsfolk seeming to corroborate when he asked questions. We told him where we were staying, and he let us know that a courier would be by in the morning with a reward and a letter for the Duke of Mossbarge, whose castle was just outside of Soravale. He promised more coin if we would deliver the letter on his behalf, to ensure that it got into the right hands safely. We all blearily agreed, eager to simply get to bed.

Sleeping arrangements were adjusted; Elisabeta still slept on the floor, but now Siri curled up on the other side of Tyti. A jealousy washed over me, but I was far too sore and tired to fret about it, and I slept uncomfortably, allowing my dreams to go where they wished so that I wouldn’t spend all night in a trance torturing myself over nothing. After all, like Tyti said, we were just friends.

Four or five hours later, I woke. Due to our late bedtime, dawn was just creeping over the horizon. I smiled and rubbed my eyes, though the knife of jealousy was still firmly planted in my gut seeing Siri and Tyti curled up into one another. I took a walk in the crisp morning air to clear my head, and saw townsfolk setting up for some sort of event. Not thinking much of it, I returned to the inn and set up to write in the tavern area where I could try putting my feelings out of my mind.

Try as I might, the words wouldn’t come. Despite being born in the Shadowfell, witnessing this much violence was new to me. Writing a fight between the dashing princess knight and the villain wasn’t all swashbuckling fun anymore, bringing back the metallic taste of my own blood in my mouth. I felt sore from my near-death experience yesterday, but also filled with more determination than ever before. I understood the blaze of power in the notes that I played more than ever before, and finding new ways to shape reality through performance and emotion was no longer the fun and games that it had been for the past quarter of a decade. I was using my songs to save lives, now.

After nearly an hour, I’d written the word “the” and stared at it. It was time to call it quits. There seemed to be a commotion in the room. Fearing the worst, I ran to the door and flung it open. There, in the middle of the floor, Tyti was attacking Siri and Elisabeta. Nobody seemed hurt, and they all swiveled towards me in shock, and I chuckled in embarrassment.

“Good morning everyone. Are we sparring?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Siri nodded, “I think I’ve finally gotten the hang of what Tyti was trying to teach me, but she has new tricks up her sleeve now that are way beyond me. Liz too; she’s been working on being better at blocking for everyone around her, not just herself.”

“I’ve been thinking about how to use my powers better as well,” I nodded.

“Nice!” Tyti beamed, “our cute little battle bard. Hey, check this out.”

She leapt up at Elisabeta, pulling her kicks so she wouldn’t hurt her, but delivering kicks to her stomach, chest, and chin. When she landed she took two heavy breaths to steady herself.

“It’s difficult, but if I really focus, I can do three kicks in three seconds!” she boasted.

“I think I’ll stick to my magic sling,” Siri laughed, “but you know, what you said about paying attention to dodge the attacks before they happen… I think that’s gonna make me way harder to knock on my ass.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Lord Mercival extends a special summons to Mercival’s two normal heroes, and also to Mercival’s very first goblin heroes!” a pasty-faced young man announced loudly, even though we were all standing right there, “you are all commanded to be the guests of honor at today’s feast.”

“Thanks, man,” Tyti nodded awkwardly.

He nodded awkwardly back and backed away in a half-bow.

“Well that was a weird thing to say,” I frowned.

“I didn’t catch all of that,” Elisabeta commented in Hymnal. I filled her in, and she didn’t like it any better than I did.

“Hey, hey, hey, y’know, I’m perfectly alright being the ‘other’ heroes if the lord’s brother bill is gonna be there, y’know what I’m saying?” Siri nudged me and winked.

“I actually don’t,” I shrugged.

“I still can’t understand your accent,” Siri chuckled.

“She’s talking about… y’know, the lord’s talking goat,” Tyti pinched her index finger and thumb together and tapped them to her lips.

“Oh! Like goatweed,” I nodded.

“ _ Cabrierba, _ ” Elisabeta added, pursing her lips disapprovingly.

“How do you know the lord has goatweed?” I muttered when the goblins shushed me.

“Couldn’t you smell it on him?” Tyti asked.

“Can’t smell,” I shrugged.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, did she just say she can’t smell?” Siri asked, “what do you mean, you can’t smell?”

“I’ve never been able to, for as long as I can remember,” I shrugged.

“Weird. Anyways, I guess we should get going to this ceremony, huh?” Siri shrugged.

When we stepped outside, we were greeted by a massive banner of painted cloth with letters in Sothlander.

“This is the perfect opportunity to test what I’ve been working on. Keep the lord distracted for ten minutes and I’ll be able to read this banner,” I instructed, adding a murmur of, “I hope.”

As I performed the song and dance routine, a crowd gathered around. Nobody gave any tips, which was fine, but once the last notes faded out, I realized that everyone around me seemed to be speaking Shadar. I still couldn’t read the banner though.

“Any luck?” Elisabeta asked, seemingly in Shadar.

“Nope, I can understand what people are saying, though,” I replied in Shadar without thinking.

“You’re speaking in that language again,” Elisabeta meekly informed me.

“Sorry,” I replied in Hymnal, “I can understand what people are saying but the banner seems to still elude me. I’m, like, processing every language in Shadar right now. It’s a little disorienting.”

I counted the number of words on the sign. Six. The last word was “Mercival” and the third word reminded me a lot of “goblin.” Throw in some prepositions and I had a pretty good guess that it was similar to what the town crier had cried into our room about goblin heroes.

“It’s probably some bullshit, you guys,” I sighed in Hymnal, then when Tyti and Siri didn’t seem to respond, I repeated myself in Común.

“How can you tell?” Tyti cocked her head.

“Eh, just a guess,” I shrugged, “it seems you two are quite the novelty around here.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, so much fun being treated like a novelty,” Siri groaned.

As if to punctuate her statement, people started gathering around us, calling out to everyone to come see the goblin heroes. As the crowd continued to form, Lord Mercival took the stage and beckoned us up. Tall, strong Elisabeta hopped up onto the stage without issue and helped me up. She reached down to help Tyti, but she had already backflipped onto the stage to the cheers of the crowd. Siri rolled her eyes at Tyti and took Elisabeta’s hand. Tyti stuck her tongue out at her playfully.

“Dear friends,” the lord began, “I have gathered you all here with good news and bad news. Would you like the good news or the bad news first?”

The crowd responded in various ways, but it seemed that a cry of “good news first” prevailed.

“Okay, well the good news is that these four fearless heroes have saved our own Thom Farmer and Millie Gardner from certain death,” Lord Mercival announced to a murmuring and worried crowd, “which leads us to the bad news. It seemed that a cult had infiltrated our Dagnatt celebration. This band, made up of brave heroes and exceptional goblins, drove these villains from our beautiful town, and for this, I am bestowing upon them a generous reward and declaring them Heroes of Mercival!”

Turning to us, he handed a fat billfold with 25 curaon notes stuffed inside to Elisabeta. “Now, heroes, what is the name of your company?”

I repeated the question hurriedly to Elisabeta while we all panicked to come up with something. As we stood there awkwardly, someone in the crowd coughed.

“The…” Siri stretched out, looking to Elisabeta for help.

“Sisterhood,” Elisabeta blurted out, Tyti and Siri looking surprised and impressed. I didn’t know why, until I put two and two together and realized she’d said that in Común.

“Of,” Tyti said smugly, passing the responsibility of a real noun to me.

“Benevolence,” I smiled convincingly.

“The Sisterhood of Benevolence,” the lord repeated to the gathered crowd, “henceforth known as heroes of Mercival!”

As the crowd cheered for us, Tyti turned to the group, “The Sisterhood of Benevolence, huh? Nice going, guys.”

“Don’t worry, we can think of a better one later,” I replied under my breath. We all smiled and waved at our newfound adoring fans, each of us ready and eager to get back on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Big thank you to everyone who has read this far. The holiday season is upon us, and right after that, I have a full course load semester. It seems like there's about 10 steady readers that show up every Friday and I love and appreciate each and every one of you. Chapters will be coming slower, on a more as-I-can-write-them basis, but they will keep coming, and I hope y'all stay tuned for that and maybe in the interim, let a friend know about this story if they like lesbians or D&D. See you soon, E. Alexis Vigil


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